It was another day, another day as many had been. And she was reading for the third time of many, the same words that made her feel warm, and now make her feel so cold.
They were so happy, but only for a short period of time. The time that they never had, the time that they wished that never existed. The time of all the times, were they loved each other as if the world would end in the minute after.
Again she read all the words, one by one, each and every single word made echo inside her chest, and she bled again until nothing left but only words written on a piece of paper, like in the old times.
Now she's burning that letter, and with it burns all the pain that he left on her.
Nothing more matters now.
Tomorrow is another day.
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